Grease
by Do Not Even Try
Summary: “You're just jealous that you can't look as drop dead sexy with John Travolta hair.” MileyxJake


"Oh, my god,"

"See? I told you mommy!"

Jake Ryan froze in the process of placing the gel in his hair. He spun around, only to see his shocked wife and laughing daughter.

His wife took a tentative step forward, "Jake...what did you do to your hair?"

The little girl giggled, "Daddy's a home-sacker!"

The woman laughed loudly before her husband sent her a look. She looked at the little girl, "I think you mean homosexual."

He glared before huffing, "I am not a homosexual. I'm just changing my hairstyle."

The little girl giggled again.

"Honey—I don't know how to say this but—you look like you stuck your head in the fries at McDonald's."

The little girl went into a fit of giggles at that, "Haha," She cried, pulling on his hand, "Homosexual fry man!"

"_I. am. not. homosexual!_" He yelled, pulling a comb through his hair.

"Yes huh!" The little girl cried, sticking out her tongue.

"Nuh uh!"

"Yes_huh!_"

"_Nuh uh!"_

"Hey, you two stop." Miley said, trying to keep her laughter inside.

They both crossed their arms over their chests and scowled the same scowl.

"He started it!"

"She started it!" They screamed in unison.

"Maggie," She said, "Go play with your cousin."

"Fine. But he is a meany head." Maggie pouted, pinching Jake's arm and giggling. He pulled on one of her brown curls and she hit his hand before running off.

Her mother rolled her eyes as she watched her daughter leave the room. She walked over to her husband,

"Well, well, well," she grinned, "let's see what we have here."

Jake had finished gelling his hair back. She reached up and grabbed a piece of it. Almost instantly, she grimaced and pulled her hand back, wiping it on his sleeve.

"I kind of like it," She stated, "It contains some of your ego at least. Although, I'm not sure I like the feel of it."

She rubbed her finger on her pants again to prove her point. He glanced at himself in the mirror,

"You're just jealous you can't look as drop dead sexy with John Travolta hair." He ran a comb through his hair again, looking freakishly like Danny in_ Grease _as he did. She took the comb from his hand, and grabbed a towel that was lying on the floor.

"Oh, yea. That's it." She grabbed the towel and started rubbing it on his head, then grimacing in disgust as she saw how much oil came off on it, "God, you could rub a frying pan on this head and make perfect eggs."

He grinned, turning to look at her, "See? I'm very useful with my sexy hair."

She snorted, "Define sexy." She reached into the drawer of the bureau and pulled out a finer teethed comb. She ran it through his hair, trying to get some of the grease out. It didn't work well, however, so she grabbed the spray bottle and squirted some water onto his head.

Jake had a dictionary in his hand, "Sexy-_adjective_ 1. concerned predominantly or excessively with sex; risque. 2. sexually interesting or exciting; radiating sexuality."

He looked up at her, a self-satisfied grin on his face. But she was already backing up, and looking him over. She squinted her eyes, and cocked her head to the right. Then she closed her left. Then her right. Then both of them.

She sighed, "Nope, sorry."

His mouth dropped open.

"Wh-what?"

She stifled a laugh as she moved behind him. She put her fingers in his hair (all the while ignoring the feeling of disgust in the pit of her stomach at the texture) and tried to tease the oil out.

"What do you mean what? Your hair does not fit those definitions."

She realized the grease wasn't leaving his hair until he washed it good, so she took to playing with it. She liked how she could twist it and it would stay in that position. She pulled at all the hair in the back, so he had a giant spike of hair sticking out of the back of his head. She giggled.

"Why doesn't it? I don't understand." He said, not believing that he,_ Jake Ryan,_wasn't sexy!

"Baby, it's just not attractive. It's all oily and...just not...you." She finished lamely.

He sighed, "Well. I guess that's...okay. I'll go wash it out."

"Not yet!" She cried quickly. She was enjoying herself.

He smiled to himself and turned around, "What? I thought it wasn't sexy."

She dropped her now greasy hands from his hair, "It's not. It _is_ entertaining, though. Now, it was sexy on John Travolta. But...not on you."

He gasped dramatically, "That's so rude!"

She just laughed and wrapped her arms around his neck, "I'm just kidding. Of course it's sexy, you're _always _sexy."

He puffed out his chest, "I know. It's just a talent I've had since birth."

"I know. Although I wish your ego would stop eating your brain." She smiled sweetly.

He ignored her, "And I'm sexier than John Travolta, aren't I?"

She stopped smiling and shifted on her feet, "Well...hey, did you hear about what Lilly saw at the mall?"

"No, no don't change the subject! 'Well' what? 'Well'...and you just trailed off! What are you trying to say?" He panicked.

She just smiled, snickering that he was falling into her trap.

"HEY MAGGIE, TELL LILLY I'M COMING DOWN THERE!"

With a smirk, she wiped her hands on a towel and left her husband sitting there with a panicked look. He followed her,

"Well what?! Miley, come on! Well what? What were you saying?"

She just walked silently in front of him, knowing he'd be wondering what she was about to say for years to come.

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**A/n: Review?**


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